


The Only Hope for Me

by I_sleep_on_roses



Series: The Only Hope for Me [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Foreplay, Heavy Angst, Language, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_sleep_on_roses/pseuds/I_sleep_on_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 months after D.C.’s Hydra base fell, Bucky has to deal with fading amnesia, a disconnect with the world, and PTSD. So he seeks out Steve’s support, but they are both finding out it’s more difficult to deal with each other than they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm trying very hard to be here

**Author's Note:**

> Switches POV between Bucky and Steve. This is more like a prelude to part 2 (aka the sexy sex), which will be up shortly. It’s a mix of the comics, movies, and my own headcannons, so if you have any questions/comments/concerns, feel free to message me.
> 
> EDIT: My laptop is finally fixed, so I'm working on a new chapter!

It had been months. Having my memories returned should have felt natural, but it had been 70-odd years, and someone else had been using my body while I was away. Everything felt so distant, except for the raging case of shell shock I’d recently developed, so I finally gave in and decided to see him. Even though I knew he’d understand my problem, I still felt wholly uncomfortable at the thought of being in the same room as him. Nonetheless, I had nowhere else to turn. After shaving for the first time in –literally – decades and hiding my bionic arm under bandages, I headed down to Veterans Affairs, where I knew at least his friend would be.

Sliding in late, black hood shrouding my face, I sat down in the back row. Samuel Wilson was at the front, rallying up the audience members, and so few noticed me. The wooden walls and American flags caused an unfamiliar surge of nostalgia, so I crumpled into my hands and tried to breathe it out. This had been happening to me on and off ever since my mind-wipe treatments had been cancelled. A young man, a rain-soaked field, anything could be a trigger. Sometimes the memories are from my childhood: the smell of pink lemonade and brownies or grass stains and pigskin. Sometimes the memories are crippling; it’s only now that I remember the faces of those I killed. It’s going to be alright, I hear him say to me, It gets better. Suddenly I realize it’s not a voice in my head. I look up to find Steve Rogers at the podium, giving a motivational speech.

“People think that because I’m Captain America, I’m perfect. Well, I’m here to say that’s far from the truth. I suffered the consequences of war just like anyone else. I still struggle with it. What I’m doing is moving on, though. There is life after war. I know that’s hard to hear, but your lost loved ones would have wanted you to. Heck, if you still have loved ones, that’s what they need of you. It’s what you need of yourself. Fight these feelings like you did on the battlefield, and become so much more. The war doesn’t have to define you.” 

In respect to listeners he put his hand up with a nod at the end, causing a memory of him in a new uniform waving to a crowd of cheerful Americans to flash in my head. I felt sick. I had been heavily trained by the U.S. military, as well as the Russian secret service, against all bodily reactions, and there I was getting nauseous. My stomach felt like it was twisting, and I had to cough down bile. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt since I started in the army.

My head was swimming, being in the same room as him, and I changed my mind about meeting up with him. When the session ends I quickly stood to exit, but a strong hand gripped my shoulder before I could make it out. “Hold your horses, partner,” Rogers said, “I see you’re new here. Sam and I would like to introduce ourselves.” I couldn’t make myself turn. This was like seeing an ex for the first time after breaking up, and I was the dumped one. Stop being a little bitch and face him, the other me said. It almost sounded like Pierce. I was so used to following orders that I did turn. When I lifted the hood of my jacket Wilson jumped back, already poised to fight, but Rogers only looked partially shocked. He warily patted my shoulder and said, “I was wondering when you’d turn up. It was only a matter of time before the shell-shock kicked in. How are ya, Buck?” 

“Man, are you sure we can trust him?” his friend asked while I brushed his hand off of me. “Like, he did just try to kill us half a year ago.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, man. Whatever you say. I’ll be in the other room,” Wilson said with his eyebrow raised, “Call me if things get too heated, Cap.”  
“Uh-huh. Sure thing.”

We both watched as he jogged to catch up with a busty girl in the hallway. “I still don’t remember much, so I’d prefer it if you kept your distance,” I muttered as the door closed.

“Ok, yeah. Let’s start over then. I’m Steven Rogers,” he smiled, extending his hand to me. Images of his smile rolled in my head like a film. Mostly as Captain America, but one from before managed to make it through. He was so scrawny. Bruised and bloody from another fight, but grinning from ear to ear. I was hesitant taking his hand, lonelier in this room with him than ever before in the past months. 

“James. Barnes,” we both recited. Snatching my hand back, I glanced away, saying “I have amnesia. I’m not stupid.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You don’t mind me asking how much of me do you remember?”

“I know you’re stubborn as hell. It’s annoying.” With that, he started chuckling uncontrollably. 

“What?” 

“After all this time, you’re still good ol’ Bucky.” I’m not sure what he meant by that, but his laugh was infectious. I joined him for a split second before stopping abruptly. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“I-I think I was half-expecting you... to wheeze?” I replied, backing up out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry. This is just too much for me.” I try to leave for a second time, but once again he caught me, this time by my left wrist. The polished metal squeaked lightly in protest as I fought the urge to sucker-punch him.

“Bucky...”

“Bucky isn’t here most of the time. The Winter Soldier is stronger.”

“But he doesn’t have to be,” he remarked earnestly, “Hey, if you’re not busy tonight, can we meet at Reed’s Diner at six?”

“Is that a date?” I questioned him with a smirk. Again he’s beaming, so I guess that’s the Bucky he’s referring to: a cocky kid from New York who only went to war because he had to. I was unsure if Rogers would ever see that side of me much anymore; but entertaining that idea for him is less awkward than trying to fight it, so I’d play the game for now. Pretend to enjoy his company until I got what I wanted out of him.

“If you want to call it that.”

“Well then, Rogers. You got yourself a date.”

* * *

The dingy cream walls and old photographs reminded me of a restaurant in Brooklyn we used to go to. Bucky was slumped over a black coffee in the furthest booth back, his strong jawline being the only thing emphasized by the overhead light. I waved to him, and while he waved back, you could see him slouching even deeper into his seat. I knew seeing him would be difficult, but I never imagined how painful it’d be. We were so close that I thought his memories could easily rekindle the friendship. He’s a different man now, though, and the sooner I accepted that, the sooner we could start anew. So when I sat down, I kept my hands in my pockets, as a sign of keeping my distance. He readjusted himself in the fat, brown leather booth, his warm pink lips parting and shutting several times before he spoke.

“Coming to the meeting wasn’t about just the PTSD. I could probably handle that on my own. I did actually plan to see you. Don’t get all buddy-buddy with me, though. I... I just need your help with something else.”

His uncertainty was proof enough that things had changed. The James I knew was never uncertain. His ego used to stretch a mile long. It guided his every decision. The man before me now seemed, not weak but, lost. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that his arm wasn’t the only the thing that was replaced. His personality had been taken out, and in its place stood pure instinct. He knew my every move practically before I made it, so after I ordered a reuben, I sat as still as possible, letting him know I was listening.

“You’re the only other one I know who has been cryogenically frozen. My mind says it’s only been a year since I fell, but the world around me is unknown. Combined with the disorder and fading amnesia, I’m going crazy. I can put on a good face for work, but I was reprogrammed to not have emotions, much less handle them. How do you cope with this life?”

When I didn’t answer he looked away, suddenly fascinated with the black and white photograph of a boy in the corner to my left. The air became heavy with Bucky’s loaded question. I had to let out a sigh, unable to comprehend the level of his loss. Why did he think I could help, when it was obvious that he was so much worse off than me? You’re the closest thing to family, I wanted to tell myself, but I brushed the idea away right after thinking it. It was really because I had the closest thing to his issue. He wouldn’t have come to me this soon if that wasn’t the case. 

“I guess I just stick to work as much as possible and make new friends to pass the time on my off-time,” I eventually replied, “Try to adapt by getting into media of any form. I personally like to read modern novels.”

“Heh. Classic Steve,” he interrupted, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. I doubt he noticed what he had said until it was already out because a second later he looked a tad bit alarmed. We both just sat there silently until the waitress returned, and handed me my sandwich and fries with a wink.

This seemed to have shocked him even more, for his mouth had become ajar.  
“Now that I’ll never get used to. Steve Rogers gets more girls than James Buchanan Barnes. Pfft.”

“C’mon. You and I both know that it’s just the muscles. You could easily attract more gals if you dressed up a bit. Nowadays they love that distressed rocker look. You kinda look like that guy from The Doors.”

“Stop talking.”

“Alright, alright.”

“I do like that band, though,” he admitted, biting his cheek.  
“You know them?”

“They play them where I work.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Where do you work?”

“The homeless shelter got me a full-time job as a busboy at... Vegan Delight.”

“So your arm won’t rust?” I asked him teasingly.

“Shut up. You know it’s waterproof,” he said, sipping his coffee to stifle a laugh. For a second it was almost like the old days. Just me and my Bucky. I had to keep reminding myself it could never be the same, though. It was 2014 and he was now a trained assassin with a metal arm. This awkward dance went on for the next thirty minutes.

“So,” I picked up where we left off earlier, finishing the last of my reuben, “What exactly do you want from me, if not friendship?” Pushing his half-full cup to the side, he paused before answering.

“I need... security. I don’t like it, but that’s the awful truth. I need someone to be around to help me adjust into this new world and, I guess, back into my old self as much as possible.”

“Do you want to stay at my place? There’s room for two.”

That must have triggered a memory because, all of a sudden, he froze with this far-off look on his face. A memory of us living together I could assume. It was then when I saw the bags under his eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks. Was I only imagining he looked as lively as in the past? His conditions really were eating away at him, and that made me feel so selfish for wanting our old relationship back. Bucky now being the one who needed protecting confused the both of us terribly. His train of thought broke first, and he responded with a pout and quick shake of his head.

“No, I have a place. I got a large, anonymous paycheck a couple months back that helped me get back on my feet. I assume it was Fury,” he said, shrugging, “You’re not clever enough to make your mail untraceable.” Snatching a fry off my plate, he got up to leave.

“So I’ll see you again?” I questioned him as he started to stroll away.

“God, you’re so clingy. I’ll visit Vets Affairs occasionally. I work from ten to six, Tuesdays through Saturdays. I’m not giving you my address or phone number yet, though. You might stalk me,” he said, smirking his original Bucky smirk while walking backwards before kicking the diner door open and striding down the street. Maybe he was right, and I was clinging. I was starting to wonder who needed the other more.

* * *

“Hey, look. It’s your boyfriend,” Robyn said, snickering and pointing to the front door.

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” I replied, leaning across the counter, “Secondly, I never told you what he looks like.” She puckered her lips at that comment.  
“Tall, extremely muscle-bound, sunshine blonde, and a sense of justice on his eyebrow? I’m pretty sure it’s Captain fucking America.”

And there he was, wearing a tight navy blue tee and dark red sweatpants, still dewy from a run. He nodded his head when he spotted me, and as made his way towards us, she leaned into my ear and whispered, “If you’re not sleeping with him, can you introduce me?”

“Pfft,” I responded, gently pushing her back.

“James,” Rogers greeted me, trying his hardest to keep his distance, “And, oh, hello. I’m Steve Rogers,” he said, noticing Robyn (who was twisting her dirty blonde dread and biting her lip flirtatiously) and offering his hand out to shake hers.

“Robyn. Erm, I’m Robyn Tucker. You can call me Puck,” she blurted out, quickly shaking it.

“Like the Fairy? ‘Jack shall have Jill; nought shall go ill; the man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well,’” he quoted, then added, “Umm, I’ll just have an apple fennel salad and a hot tea. Yeah, that sounds nice. For here.” 

She seemed scorched at his inattention because she lied, telling him with a mock-frown, “If you’re waiting on Jamie, you’ll be here a bit. He just took his break.”

“Oy, sosi hui,” I swore in Russian, tossing my dishtowel in the sink and marching to the furthermost back seat, Steve on my heels, hands in his pockets as usual.

“You’re going by Jamie now?” he questioned me with an open-mouthed half-smile, eyebrows wagging. I caught myself staring.

“It’s what everyone here calls me. Never asked them to.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“I won’t,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. How could he be so happy? Did my mere presence bring him joy? I found it a bit sickening, but something deep inside me also wanted to join in this happiness. For the last three days, I’d been barraged by pieces of memories involving him. For the most part they were happy, but always returned to our last moments together. Part of me hated him for letting me drop. What good was his super-strength -giving up everything we had had- if he couldn’t save me? I knew it wasn’t logical or even fair to Rogers, but I was so furious. I lost seventy years to Hydra and the Winter Soldier, and then I’d have to try living in an unfamiliar time and with knowledge of what I’d done. I think that I was angrier at the fact that I didn’t just die when I fell.

 

It occurred to me that I was scraping a fork into the table and that he was eyeing me nervously. “Sorry,” I mumbled as his order arrived.

Robyn seemed over Rogers because she kissed my temple, lightheartedly saying, “He’s mopier than usual. If you break our Jamie’s heart, we’ll have to hunt you down.”

“Threatening a super-soldier, Puck? I thought you were smarter than that,” I teased her, adding, “I’ll have a coffee. Tell Jeffrey to take it out of my pay.”

“Uh-huh. No prob. Anything else for you, Mister America?”

“Heh, no. Thank you, though, Puck,” he answered, chuckling, teeth bright, eyelids crinkling. I found myself staring, but broke out of it before he turned back towards me. Let’s hear it for Captain America!, I recalled saying once. Today he was smiling like on the days after winning battles, and I wondered if I had caused that change in him.

“You should starting listening to newer albums. I always buy from Record Graveyard since I don’t understand downloading yet. I know how much you like music, so I got you a record player. It’ll be at my place, if you want me and Natasha to come over with it...?” He said, ending his statement with a question.

I think in the past I was the overwhelming one, but being needed gave Steve zeal like no other. It felt weird when he became Captain America, and it felt weird now. Nonetheless, music sounded great to me. A way to drown out the nightmares. I must’ve nodded because he grinned and moved on with the conversation. Just when I thought he’d never shut up, the Black Widow walked in, her high black heels clicking on the linoleum all the way to our back corner.

“Isn’t it time we left, Cap? I’ve got ‘errands’ to run,” she said, eyebrow cocking at the word ‘errands’.

“Ah, yep. First things first, though. Natasha, Bucky. Bucky, Natasha.”

“We’ve met,” she practically grimaced, crossing her arms and tapping her toe impatiently. I realized then that she wasn’t referring to last spring, but a time before that. Snippets of her, bloodied and sprawled over a dead body, resurfaced.

Of course she didn’t wish to be in a room with me, regardless of what Steve wanted. He kept throwing his friends at me, oblivious to the fact that I had nearly killed them. “Whenever you want, we’ll bring it-” The subject of dead bodies sent a chill through my blood as he stood up, causing him to stop mid-sentence. Was Rogers always this watchful of me? It never occurred to me that he would be since I was stronger than him for most of our lives. Not wanting to ponder any longer, I stood up as well, shooing them both out.

“Okay, okay. Oh, and I’m leaving that for your tab. Revenge for the other day,” he said, sauntering out of the cafe. Something told me he got that from “Bucky.”

A couple weeks passed before I finally ran down to Record Graveyard on one of my work breaks. I was itching to kill the silence in my apartment. I perused the aisles aimlessly, randomly picking up albums and ignoring attempts to chat made by the wiry old man at the cashbox. It didn’t occur to me that I had wandered into the 1940s section until I hit a Glen Miller greatest hits album. The flashbacks came so rapidly that I had to get outside for air. I dropped onto the curb, lungs heaving and gasping, and tried to put thoughts of my last days in Brooklyn aside. Standing very carefully, I let clips of dancing and kissing fade into the background. “Don’t leave me, Buck. Please don’t.”

When I re-entered the store, the thin cashier’s brow curled in concern. It looked like he was attempting to speak to me again, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I popped in a Nine Inch Nails record on the test-run player and put the headphones on. It was dark and sensual and I liked it, so I bought it. I rarely thought decisions fully through. Hell, I never had to in years. After making my purchase, I tried not to think for the rest of the shift. This plan was foiled when Rogers came back, though, dragging Romanoff along with him.

* * *

Despite our combined strengths and Natasha’s navigational ‘expertise’. we fumbled trying to get the record player up the narrow stairway and into Bucky’s small apartment. The three and a half cramped rooms, along with the pale forest green walls, made me claustrophobic but also reminded me of something. Looking for some sort of comfort I automatically looked towards him. He was shakier than usual, and it tore me up inside to see him that way. After shuffling the player in between a tattered couch and a tall metal lamp, he caught my gaze and locked into place.

“I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, a twinge of menace in his stance as he grabbed a record from his black messenger bag. While the tight lump in my chest protested, I decided not to push things. He looked like he could snap at any second, flinging me or Natasha through the thin apartment wall, but instead he offered us bourbon after turning the music on. As she accepted, happily plopping onto the couch, a deep-toned synthesizer (I think) started playing over a hypnotic drumbeat. The Winter Soldier’s taste in music, I assumed.

We sat and drank and talked -well, mostly drank- for the next couple of hours, and it worried me that I couldn’t tell if this was a facade or not. Both Natasha and Bucky were hardened agents, and therefore they could play ‘normal’. I wondered if all of these niceties were only for me. It was twice as worrisome when they spoke in Russian, pointing at me and snickering.  
“Glad we cleared things up, Romanoff. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll like a word with Rogers,” he said in a low tone, like he was forcing his voice out. He talked on and off like this recently; like it was hard for him to converse socially.

“You seem alright yourself,” she replied, standing up and walking into the hallway, “I’ll be in the car, Steve. You guys try not get too naughty, you hear me?”

“He wishes.”

My face nearly turning beet red made me miss them mocking me in Russian. People were so blunt nowadays, and despite his shortcomings, Bucky had been grasping their use of vocabulary. I tried to grin and brush their comments off as the door shut, but my smile soon fell when I noticed him trembling. He walked to the window and anxiously watched the cars past, his hands tracing the lines of his metal appendage. I never did know what to do when Bucky was upset, since he always hid it from me, so I just stood awkwardly at the kitchen entrance, drumming my fingers against my khakis. “Bucky?” I eventually asked faintly. 

He answered, unmoving, “I’m reconsidering this relationship.”

“So soon? I thought you liked the record player. I-”

“The flashes have become intolerable since you re-entered my life.”

“But isn’t regaining your memories a good thing?”

“Not the sickness that comes with it. I need to go at my own pace. I don’t think you’re as good for me as I assumed.”

Trying to reason with him, I stepped forward, saying, “Don’t you think you’re judging me a little too quickly? We’ve been through-”

He spun around, eyes wide with indignation, and practically growled, “Do you think you still know me, Rogers? I have strangled pregnant women. I have murdered entire tribes with no regret. All in the name of a lie. And now, I’ve lied to you. The cycle needs to be broken. I need to start again.” 

Readjusting my feet a few times before opting to sit down, I calmly voiced what I already knew. “You were pretending to be your old self. You don’t really consider me a friend.”

“Don’t take it personally,” he replied, crossing his arms.

“How can I not?! You put on a ‘good face’ for me. It not only stunts your progress, but it-” I choked on the words. “...I hadn’t been this happy since I before I went under. Couldn’t you just have been honest with me? I didn’t expect much to begin with.”

“Things were running smoothly. I thought I could keep it up until maybe I could recover some of the man you once respected, but that hardly seems possible now.”

He went back to staring out the window, and I put my face in my hands, folding over the edge of the couch. “My childhood friend, Buck.... He’s- he’s probably gone, I know. War changes men, of course. This personal battle of ours is no different. Though, his strength is still in you. And maybe it’s waiting on me,”

“What do you mean?”

“For me to say I still need you, James.”  
 “Stop it. I’m temperamental, unstable, and just overall too dangerous.”

Didn’t he know it didn’t matter? I lifted my head, quickly wiping away my tears, and repeated myself,  
“I still need you, James.”  
“Chin up, boy. There’s no tears in war,” Bucky quoted, much to both of our surprise, Colonel Chester Philips. I froze, unable to respond. He knew much more than he thought he did, and it terrified him. I wanted to console him so badly. Tell him that I’m scared too, but that I want him to keep at it.

Out of nowhere, Natasha swung the door back open with a look of boredom, and maybe even anxiety, on her face. Not wanting her to worry, I faked a grin at Bucky and said, “So I’ll set a date for you and Robyn for the 9 o’clock original Godzilla showing at the cinema then, Buck?”

“...Fine,” he muttered, sighing as he sat at the kitchen table and finished off his drink. 

“Great!” I exclaimed over-excitedly, still lingering at the door.

“Bye...” he responded under his breath as we left his place. From her arched eyebrow and half-open smirk, I’m sure Natasha could see something was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote chapter one a long time ago, so you'll ave to forgive the first chapter a little!! Please read on because it gets much better I swear!!!


	2. Restless Heart Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a date with Robyn goes horribly wrong, Steve must deal with a suicidal Bucky whose night terrors have only gotten worse.
> 
> Edited: 5/15/17

_We could get away with killing Steve Rogers,_ the other me whispered as I waited for my date. I hoped didn’t think Puck would agree, but she’s not picky apparently, so now I had to suffer through more unnecessary social interaction. After pulling my hair into a ponytail and putting on the black v-neck pullover, biker glove, and gray fitted jeans Natasha had dropped off, I was left with nothing to do but drink coffee and bang my head against the rusty refrigerator until Robyn arrived. While she was fairly beautiful, I hadn’t dealt with a girl in over 70 years. Damn him for setting me up! Just as I was thinking of ways to hide Steve’s dead body and make my escape, I heard footsteps and then the bell ring. She was dressed in a daisy-print sundress and brown cowboy boots, exposing her long, curvy legs; I was starting to remember why I used to go on dates in the first place.

As we hopped into her dilapidated, light blue van, she grinned at me, saying, “You clean up nice.”

“I haven’t done much,” I replied, trying to push down the unexpected butterflies.

Puck rambled the whole trip, reminding me of a younger, more rambunctious Steve. We parked at the drive-in cinema, and I hoisted us both atop the car to watch the film. Her dress riding up too high elicited a physical reaction I hadn’t experienced in forever, and suddenly the inactive parts of my mind began to steam and crank. It didn’t matter that an oversized dinosaur alien was terrorizing the city of Tokyo because the wind was blowing her long dreads back. Her eyes were hazel and her soft skin was freckled and I, for the first time, felt encompassed by her deep lavender oil musk.

It occurred to me a little late that I was staring at Robyn and tilting in because she pulled back, giggling. “When’s the last time you been with somebody?” she asked, swiping a hair from my face.

“Ages ago,” I answered truthfully, embarrassed to admit it.

“Well then,” she whispered, wrapping one arm and then the other around my neck, “You’re in for a real treat.” Puck slowly pulled me in, her lips enveloping mine, her tongue gliding in between them. Invitingly opening my mouth, I leaned in further, kissing in rhythm with her. With her chest pressed against mine, it became clear that Robyn wasn’t wearing a bra, so took initiative and began to caress one of her breasts through the sheer fabric. She faintly moaned as her nipples hardened under my touch, and soon I was on top of her entirely.

Pushing me back and breathing heavily, Puck whispered, “Come with me,” and slid out from beneath me. We hopped off the van, causing it to creak noisily, and snuck into the back part of it, ignoring the two men arguing on the screen. I quickly pulled her back into an embrace on the shaggy, green carpeting and let my fingers roam all over her smooth body. By licking behind my ear and leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck, she peaked my arousal even more; I found myself overly hungry for this, but I couldn’t slow down. “Oh!” Robyn practically squeaked in surprise when I slipped my hand underneath her dress and began to graze the edge of her silk panties. She pressed down for more friction, and pretty soon the tips of my fingers were soaked.

With one hand she went under my shirt and played with my nipple, and with the other, she gripped my erection through the pants fabric and began to stroke. I groaned, nearly buckling in, and she took as a sign to get rougher. Flipping on top of me, she positioned her sex over mine and tried pinning me down.  
“You look like the kinda guy into S&M,” Puck told me before biting down on my collarbone and digging into my arm with her long nails.

While this should have felt good, it was starting to feel like combat, and the screaming from the film was only making it worse. Images of masked men training me withstand torture blurred my vision, so I hissed, “Ahh, ssstop.”

Instead she forced her teeth and nails in deeper, and, since I suddenly felt powerless, I couldn’t just push her off. _This is part of your duty,_ the Winter Soldier said in my head, The only way to win is to fight. Feeling the tension rising in my left shoulder, I tried again. “Cut it o- AH! Fuck! Stop it or else,” I warned her, but for some reason, Robyn kept on, this time pulling my hair and silencing me by biting my bottom lip raw.

It was too late. She was on the floor with my hands around her neck. Choking and stammering, she attempted to loosen my grip, but my fingers simply pressed in harder. I knew I had to stop soon, or she would be dead; and yet the anger and fear had a hold on me. With bloodshot eyes, Puck looked at me gravely. Like she was searching for someone else.

Then I remembered the pre-serum Steve she reminded me of. He always looked at me like that when I was out of control. When I lost my father to the war and my sister through the adoption system, I rebelled by stealing liquor and going on joyrides. Steve was one of the few people who could coax me down. He would be so disappointed in me now. This memory jolted me back in control, and so I quickly freed her from my grip.

I stood and stared warily as she gagged and coughed; purple already appearing along the sides and center of her neck. Knowing I had to leave before Robyn collected enough air to scream for help, I hastily got out of the beat-up car and muttered, “Sorry.” As I made my way out of the drive-in and to the nearest subway station, I thought about Godzilla and how I, too, was a monster. Once I arrived at my apartment, I sat on my windowsill with a scotch in hand and watched the now rainy streets. I wondered if Captain America would ever have to eliminate me to save the people.

* * *

The lime green walls and large windows of Vegan Delight were ordinarily comforting, but, as I entered the cafe after my daily run, the air had a chill. When I asked Robyn where Bucky was, she answered with an edgy tone, “Not here. Took a ‘sick day,” and walked away from the counter, pulling her yellow turtleneck up higher. I went back outside and called Sam up for help.

“Hey, Sam. Bucky didn’t turn up at work today.”

“Steve, no offense – you know I got your back and all – but you're starting to sound a little obsessive. Maybe Toy Soldier just needed a vacay.”

“Listen, something’s not right here. I think I saw some bruising on his date’s neck. She seemed a bit shaky at the mention of his name. Can you meet me on 1136 Jefferson Drive?”

“Ok, yeah, sure thing. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Thanks. Meet ya there.”

The town was so still this morning. As if everyone knew what happened except for the two of us. A stale breeze kicked up when we opened the apartment door, and as we climbed up the worn-down stairs Sam felt the need to pull up his gun. “Bucky,” I quietly called out, but there was no need because when we opened his door, we found him draped over his couch in yesterday’s clothing with his hair wild and a lit cigarette, Nine Inch Nails droning on in the background. The look on his face suggested he knew we were coming, and that unnerved me.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”

“Bucky,” I mouthed again, unable to make my voice come out.

Seeing this, Sam choose to answer for me. “Seems like you night out didn’t pan out that well. What’d you do, Barnes?” he questioned him, his pistol aimed to fire at any wrong movement.

“Well, as you probably saw, I didn’t kill her,” Bucky calmly replied, taking a drag from his smoke.

“Oh, that's great,” Sam said sarcastically, “I’ll be sure to inform the authorities.”

“Put the gun down. I could’ve fled D.C.. I could’ve killed you. But I didn’t.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? If you think you can get away with suffocating an innocent lady then you’ve got another thing coming. Bet’ll it wipe that smug look off your face if I pop a cap up your ass.”

“Ju-just cool your jets, Sam,” I said, finally gaining my voice back, “James, what happened?” This caused a change in his face; his cigarette drooped and his brow furrowed in pain.

“She didn’t say?” he wondered, tossing his feet off the couch to get a better look at me.

“She said that you took a sick day. Just tell us what happened. We want to help,” I answered, uneasy under his boring gaze.

Sam lowered his weapon in surrender as I shut the hallway door and walked over to turn off the music. I could still sense Bucky’s eyes on me, but that stare was so foreign to me that I couldn’t get myself to man up and turn towards him. He had the appearance of a trapped, rabid dog, ready to bite at any second. Growing more and more cavernous, the silence stretched across the whole building, only being filled with the occasional automobile passing or baby crying. Finally he spoke up, voice rigid with tension.

“We were enjoying things at first, but I took it too far. I didn’t know she was into- I didn’t know.... She triggered a hallucination, and I thought I was back at a Hydra facility,” Bucky confessed.

“So you _did_ try to strangle Robyn to death,” Sam added.

“The Winter Soldier kicked in.”

“What if the next time he kicks in, you kill somebody, hmm?”

Bucky was silent.

“Cap, it’s your call.”

I turned to confront Bucky, but was surprised to find that he was watching me with a look of sincere regret. I promised myself after becoming a super-soldier that I’d repay my best friend for everything he did for me, but I never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this. What was I to do when he was trained to kill and unable to control that function? Thor once talked to me about his brother betraying their people.

He said, “We all make mistakes in our lives, some larger than others, but I know that despite Loki’s madness, I could never give up on him. I can tell that he fears that of me, and I cannot let my brother down.”

Being an only child, that was a foreign concept to me before, but now I was faced with a similar situation. So I decided to not let Bucky down. I turned to Sam and whispered, “This is just an extreme symptom of shellshock, right? We know he’s trying at least a little to get treatment, so why don’t we just keep an eye on him for now? I’m sure he’ll come through.”

“If you say so, man. Though, if he goes psycho it’s on you. ”

“I could hear you even without enhanced hearing, guys, and I don’t appreciate being treated like a naughty kid,” Buck interrupted us.

“It’s obvious to you two need a minute. Gimme a ring if there’s an emergency, Steve,” Sam said, putting his gun away and walking out of the flat.

“Uh-huh. Later,” I responded, half-afraid of the private conversation to come.

After he shut the door behind himself, silence fell again, this time even more ominous. By now the room was thick with cigarette smoke, so I opted to open the window and try to make small talk to blow off steam.

“You know, you smoked Camels before too. Never near me, though, on account of my asthma. Heh, once I snuck one of ‘em out while you were in the bathroom. It nearly killed me, but I just wanted to feel like one of the guys for an instant. Do you remember, Bucky?” I reminisced, sitting in the kitchen.

“Ermmm, it’s coming back. I-I was so mad... and you were such a punk-ass that you didn’t even regret it.”

“Heheh, yeah. I thought you’d never speak to me again. That was my biggest fear you know,” I admitted, “That you were going abandon me for cooler kids one day.”

“... If this is some ploy to get me to like you, it’s not working. Like I said the other day, this isn’t going to work out between us.” he changed the subject back, standing up for emphasis.

 _Stand your ground,_ I kept telling myself, _whatever the cost_. Bucky’s self-destructive manner could be the end of him if I didn’t.  
“Well, I think you’re wrong. Sure, the flashbacks are painful, but they’re important to recovering your identity. That scene you had with Robyn is only going to set you back a notch, and the night terrors are going to get worse.”

“I don’t get night terrors.” he retorted, raising his chin in defiance. He was lying through his teeth and didn’t care that I knew. So, for the first time ever, I stood up to James Buchanan Barnes.

I towered over him and answered very slowly. “Yes, you do. If the time you spent on the battlefield didn’t do it, the time you spent with Hydra certainly did. Your neighbors tell me they can hear you scream and thrash about every night. You drink coffee all the time to try and beat the sleep back, but as it turns out, caffeine only makes the terrors more intense. You can’t keep lying to me, Buck, and you can’t keep pushing me away. I’m the only one you trust, and we both know it.”

This caused a strange reaction in him. He was built to fight, and therefore wasn’t scared of me; but I guess emotionally he wasn’t prepared for this because he stepped back, eyes searching mine for a weak point. Upon finding none, Bucky sat and proposed the worst. Metal hand cupped over his mouth, he croaked, “I’m sick, Steve. Please. Just put me out of my misery.” With those words, my air pipe closed up and I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

“Never,” I managed to remark.

“You’re selfish.”

My voice came back two-fold because now I was furious. Tears welling up in my eyes, I yelled, “Oh, that’s rich! Sure, I get that you’re going through an unimaginable amount of problems right now, but I’ve been trying to help goddamnit. You asked me for help, and I accepted, no questions asked. Then you ditch me the second it gets hard? I ca- I can’t... My best friend in the entire world is asking me to blast him and then calls me selfish for saying no. Th-that’s bullshit.”

“Steve-” he muttered apologetically.

“No! If you want to end it all, take a bullet on your own time. I won’t play any part in it.”

 

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t say anything else. I left, head spinning, and prayed to God he wouldn’t take my suggestion. My punching bag was my only solace in times like this and, without my gloves on, I punched it until my fists were raw and swollen. I couldn’t get the image of Bucky hanging off the train out of my head. I couldn’t lose him yet again.

* * *

Asking Rogers to kill me was cruel, but the hopelessness had crippled me. It stunted not only my emotions, but my reasoning as well. I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself, and yet I craved a way out of the burning building in my mind, a way to finally sleep peacefully. He was right when he said I trusted him. I didn’t quite like him as a friend yet, but I trusted him. It was me I didn’t trust. Not when the Winter Soldier was rewiring my reactions to every damned thing.

I walked barefoot along the edge of the apartment roof, weighing the pros and cons of life versus death. If you’re not tough enough to live, then you don’t deserve life, the other me kept repeating. He’s the good guy, and you’re the bad guy. That’s how it always will be because that’s how it’s supposed to be. The cold air whipped my hair around my face while I watched the traffic down on the street, as if it was egging me on. All I’d have to do is dive, and it’d all be over. Not even a super-soldier could withstand a leap of seven stories if they landed on their head.

My heartbeat became hard against my chest, and I almost did jump. Nowadays most of my returning memories were of Rogers, and when in great pain, I think of Pierce; but right at that moment I remembered my father’s last words to me before he shipped out.

“James, I may not make it back, so I’ll impart one last bit of advice before I go. To be a real man, you must not only fight your foes, but you must also fight yourself. You have to be able to fight yourself and win. I trust you to do that regardless of what happens to me. So goodbye and good luck, Kiddo.”

This lead to a revelation of sorts: What kind of man would I be if I took the plunge? If my brave father were here, he’d be so ashamed of me. I sat down on the ledge, cursing my “good luck” as if my dad living would’ve changed my future. Would’ve saved me from this fucked up life. I combed my fingers through my matted hair and jealously watched the trees sway for a while before heading back inside. Oh, what I’d give to just sway, content with the world and the world with me. I sat there, contemplating what it’d be like to not have to make choices or engage with the world.

Upon re-entering my flat, I found four missed calls and a voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Robyn. Um, don’t quit because of me. I know that was part of your stress disorder the other night. I’m so sorry. I should have listened when you told me to stop. Now I’ll forgive you, if you promise you’re getting better, haha," she said, forcing a laugh.

"Uhm, so yeah, my father was in ‘Nam. We never talked about the trauma, but it ruined my parents’ lives. War makes monsters out of all of us. Please... don’t let it ruin yours.”

I deleted the message, unable to take her kindness. How could everyone be so hopeful of me? If I kept failing them, the guilt would take me entirely. I saw the Winter Soldier just behind my eyes; ready to take action the second I showed weakness. What if I blacked out one night and murdered everyone in the apartment complex? It had gotten to the point where I was more scared of myself then of the men who created me. One little malfunction of my arm and I could tear the throat of a customer out.

After a couple hours and several drinks later I, at last, picked up the phone and called Rogers.

“Oh, thank God it’s you, Buck,” he answered immediately, breathing heavily on the other end. I could tell he’d been exercising despite the forced gentleness.

“Yeah... it’s me. Well, I considered jumping off the roof, but then I remembered my dad’s last words to me. They were-”

“About being a man,” he finished my sentence.

“You know too much about me.”

“You’re my best pal, Bucky. We’ve been through nearly everything together.”

“Look, I’m sorry. About Robyn. About asking you to off me. I’m at a seriously low point in my life, and I- I wouldn’t mind you helping me out a bit. That is... if you’re still willing to deal with my ‘bullshit.’”

“I owe you one hell of a knuckle sandwich, but yeah, of course. You know I’m not giving up on you.”

“As you keep reminding me.”

“Anyway, we still haven’t talked about... your night terrors,” Steve hesitantly reminded me, “Are you sure I can’t stay over or something?” It might actually work, but the thought of him watching me sleep made me strangely tense; so I compromised.

“If they get worse, you can stay over next week.”

“Ok, sure thing. Also, Sam said it’d help if you got your aggression out a different way, so after I get back from my next mission we’ll start sparring practice.”

“Jesus Christ. You don’t lighten up, do you? Alright, fine, fine. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yep. See ya, Bucky.”

The terrors did get worse, though. I rarely recalled what I did during the few hours I was asleep, but I always woke up with sweaty skin and my room disheveled. This time I discovered that I had mangled the metal headboard in my sleep and when I left for work, I noticed horror in my next-door neighbors’ eyes. At work I felt even more awkward, seeing that Puck had wrapped a heavy Indian-style scarf around her neck to hide the bruising from others. The thought of talking to her panicked me, but I told her of my arrangement with Steve anyway. I promised her that I would work to never hurt anyone ever again.

* * *

In between jobs assigned by underground S.H.I.E.L.D agents and trying to lend Bucky a hand, I was drained. Coming back from a three-day stakeout in Dubai with Sam and Clint, I practically forgot about my plans for combat practice with him. I would’ve been excited if Tuesday wasn’t still so fresh in my mind. Anything could have happened while I was away, and that made me sick with guilt. A reel of awful possibilities played in my head as I waited for him to arrive at my private room at the gym.

Arriving two hours late, Bucky showed up in black cargo pants and a jean jacket, his hair tied up a small, messy bun. I wasn’t going to ask him where he’d been, but, from the haggard look on his face, I’d say passed out on his couch.

“Take off your jacket,” I instructed, not wanting to waste any more time.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Bucky answered mockingly while dropping his duffel bag and stripping off the denim to reveal a thin, sleeveless undershirt. His arms were brawnier than in the 40s, and the low lights and mirrors caused the muscles and metal to glisten. As he stretched his flesh arm, the grooves flexed and deepened, and I found myself changing direction in order to hide my visible interest.

“Just hand-to-hand today?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Yes.”

“My specialty,” Bucky bragged, winking before he lunged at me. Catching me unaware, he clocked me straight in my jaw, knocking me back a few steps. After regaining my balance, I repositioned myself and got serious. We exchanged blows, fist to bicep, ankle to shin, attacking and counter-attacking. Every once in awhile a swing would make contact, but we were pretty much equal. Ducking and dodging, we became a tangled mess of punches, blocks, and flipping kicks. It wasn’t long before we were both sweating and out-of-breath.

His big mistake was slowing down for air ‘cause I took that opportunity to knee him in the gut and fling him to the wooden floor.

My big mistake was letting my guard down after pushing Bucky because, upon falling, he grabbed onto my wrist and anchored me down with him. I collapsed onto him with a thwacking sound, and, before we knew it, we were laughing madly. Bucky quickly threw me to his side, pretending like he wasn’t enjoying himself, but I honestly had few recent memories of him smiling so hard. I had been longing for that smile ever since I awoke in this century. Turning to face him and letting out a contented sigh, I questioned him jokingly, “Do I win?”

“Not even close,” he cracked, “You didn’t think super-soldier serum was going to make up for your crappy technique, did you?”

“Oh-hoh! I see how it is. James Barnes is a sore loser.”

“Am not!” he shouted, half-jabbing at me with his metal fist. Bucky didn’t hold up until he was nose-to-nose with me.

For a split second, I could swear I saw a spark of curiosity – and lust? – flash across his eyes. I was about to dismiss it when, suddenly, his lips crashed up against mine. He was salty and sweet, and I dragged my tongue over his teeth for another taste. Hooking my neck with his flesh hand, Bucky pressed my mouth even harder against his, as if to consume me whole. Just as soon as it had started, though, it stopped.

“Cameras.” he sounded out, fingers grazing his lips as his eyes scanned the ceiling corners.

It was as if I was a kid again, getting short-winded ‘cause my lungs couldn’t handle the adventure. I sat there in a daze, breathless and disoriented, as Bucky rose to collect his things.

“So I’ll see you tonight?” he asked at the doorway.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” I came out of the fog enough to answer.

“‘Kay. Meet me at my place then.”

Realizing how provocative that conversation sounded, my whole face flushed in embarrassment. It was hard tell if he was flirting or had chosen to pretend that the kiss didn’t happened. The conflict between wanting Barnes and feeling wrong for it was age-old, but I couldn’t believe that today of all days I’d have to act on that conflict. A part of me was still heated about the near-suicide attempt, while another part of me wanted to forgive it all and just have him. Bucky never failed to rouse me in any and every way possible. Tonight promised to be intriguing at the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to message me about typos.


	3. Undisclosed Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To help combat Bucky’s night terrors, Steve proposes to stay a few nights. This brings up long-buried emotions that they will have to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 5/15/17

His tongue against my teeth, my fingers in his hair; I could tell this was a new experience. Kissing Rogers felt forbidden and yet satisfying all at once, as if my mouth had waited over eighty years to touch his. It was wrong -wasn’t it? - to want another man, but hadn’t I already committed a thousand other unforgivable sins? While I knew gays were open in the 21st century, I unpleasantly recalled being called “fruity” by the boys who saw how close I was with Steve. I didn’t know what I was going to do when he got here.

I sat on the floor in front of my couch, chest aching, not from exercising but from longing for him. The kiss wasn’t enough, but, at the same time, I didn’t feel ready to take things any further. Though, something told me I had always been this way. Tonight’s uncertainty, combined with the new cravings I had developed for cigs, was making me restless and irritable. I quickly lit one and flipped on my used T.V. set. Anything to distract me from the impending conversation we would have to have. I had just landed on the football game when Rogers knocked on the door.

“Hey,” he greeted me nervously, dropping his bags in my bedroom before plopping on the couch.

Returning to my spot on the beige carpet, I turned up the volume and succumbed to the nostalgia it gave me. “This reminds me of when I used to watch you play,” he said.

If I shut my eyes, I could picture mud-soaked clothes and toothy grins. I missed those days when our lives were simple. When I didn’t have to deal with depression, and Steve didn’t have to deal with me. All I could manage was a weak “Me too,” and from behind me, I could sense him smiling. We stayed like that until the program was over, attempting to ignore our issues. Attempting to feel normal.

* * *

Bucky woke me with a blood-curdling howl. Jumping to my feet, I tore off my blanket and sprinted into the bedroom to find him up, drenched in sweat, tossing and turning violently. “Buck,” I called, trying to calm him the conventional way, “Bucky, wake up.” As expected, he kept stirring uncontrollably, and then he started to groan in Russian. I crept up to the nightstand, and, kneeling gently, I shook Bucky and whispered for him to wake up. Pulling away from me, he begged again as if I was his torturer, which pained me greatly.

So I pushed a little harder, saying his name repeatedly, but this time Bucky fought back. Though he still slept, his arm rose up and whacked me hard against the side of my eye, causing blood to drip from my cheek. I grabbed onto Bucky’s arms and held tightly just to stop him from hitting me again, and as his flailing slowed, I eased him to the edge of the small bed so I could lay with him. Crossing his wrists over his chest, I found myself impulsively letting my lips skim along the tops of Bucky’s shoulder blades, and yet it appeared to have a relaxing effect on him. As his convulsing turned to light twitches, he curled into me and soon began to snore softly. I watched over him for at least a good fifteen minutes before drifting off to sleep myself.

The next thing I knew I was waking up to Bucky stirring in my arms as sunlight poured in through the little bedside window. He turned to face me, still half-asleep, and buried his head under mine. His hair smelled just like I remembered: cigarette smoke with a thick, woody finish. I was so tempted to pull him in closer for a better whiff, but I wouldn’t risk waking Bucky and cutting this perfect moment short. It was then that I noticed our erections were too close for comfort. Nonetheless, he scooted in more, attracted by my body heat, and I let out a small gasp when they touched.

He moaned lightly before blinking and taking in the scene unfolding. When he realized what was happening, he tore himself from me with eyes wide in shock.

“Now look. You were screaming last night. It’s not- I’m not… queer or anything like that,” I lied with a slight gulp. I didn’t need Bucky even more pissed at me. Instead, he asked, “Did I do that?” pointing to my cheek.

“Um, yeah, but it’s no big deal,” I said, covering my now swollen face with my palm.

He surprised me by pulling my hand away and gently kissing the cut. “Sorry,” he mumbled and then proceeded to move his lips down to mine. Bucky lingered for a moment -his warm breath dancing on my skin- before closing the gap and kissing me hard. I had drawn this lean body so many times that it felt completely natural to trace the lines of it with my fingers. I went shoulder to thigh before lifting his leg and wrapping it around my waist. As he bit my lower lip I got bolder, rolling my hips inwards and causing him growl. Bucky teased my nipples through the fabric, rubbing and lightly tugging until they were hard as pebbles; then he raised my shirt and licked one, which drew an unexpectedly loud moan out of me.

Pulling him back up to my face, I kissed him roughly on the cheeks, lips, and neck, taking in as much of him as possible. Breath becoming heavy, Bucky softly dragged his nails across my shoulder blades and down my back. “Oh, Bucky,” escaped my lips as he tore off his tee, exposing his sculpted chest, “You’re perfect.”

“I’m really not.” Bucky said, sitting up and shaking his head self-consciously.

I stretched my arm up to where the metal hit the skin, bunched and cratered, and let my finger graze it, replying, “To me, you are. Every bit of you.”

He didn’t say anything but took my hand off and started licking my fingers, one at a time, before sucking on them. I gasped as they hit the back of his throat before coming back and going in again. If he kept that up, I’d lose my head. I watched, mouth open and panting heavily, before leaning in and taking the edge of Bucky’s ear into my mouth. Trembling in response, he let out a deep groan and led my hand down into the waistband of his black boxers. I took it from there, sliding my fingers around his waist, back, and then up his v-line, teasing until he begged me to go lower. It was strange to see Bucky so needy, but it turned me on to be in control for once.

Holding him down with my free arm, I dipped my hand down the front of his pants and just barely brushed the tip of his erection. “Oh, fuck,” he exhaled, arching his hips to meet my fingers. Instead of keeping him down, and risking a flashback, I merely starting pulling my hand out. “Punk.” Bucky whined, head hitting the pillow. Just as he wasn’t looking, though, I took his dick in my hand and began to work him with full force.

He started to grunt and curse in Russian, and I had to bury my face in his neck to hide how much of a stimulant that was. I’m sure Bucky could tell, though, because he pulled my head up to stare me in the eyes as he grinded harder and harder into my cupped hand. I took his mouth into mine as he came with a final shove, warm liquid shooting out and coating my fingers. “Jerk,” I breathed, leaning over to rest my slightly damp forehead to his. Bucky grazed his lips against mine, stubble tickling my chin, and kissed me again.

When he pulled me back, I noticed his gaze hadn’t relaxed and that he practically looked dangerous. Buck smirked, catching me off-guard, and jumped on top of me. Slinking down my body, he licked his lips like a predator. He had me right where he wanted me. The pulse down below quickened the closer he got, but he was in the mood for revenge. With my boxer briefs still on, he slowly caressed my balls and bit at my hip. I grabbed fistfuls of sheet as he tightened his grip and used his teeth to toy with the waistband; he pulled at both the elastic and my balls simultaneously, creating a dizzying effect.

“Please, Bucky,” I pleaded, knowing that’s what he wanted, “You win. Please, just touch me. I’m dying here.”

“I’m not convinced,” he whispered, slipping his fingers just under the edge of my underwear and gliding one against the side of my crotch.

“Oh! I -hngh- I need it. Bucky, please. I’m begging you. Suck me off. Please. I’m desperate.”

He grinned silently, yanking off my underwear entirely and causing me to inhale sharply at the sudden exposure. He went painfully slowly, at first just licking around the rim of the head and then stroking the shaft with his palm. Bucky’s wet tongue was cool against the hot throbbing, and it felt so good when he finally took it into his mouth. My body twitched at his every touch, and I felt like pretty soon I was going to lose control. He inched his way down, teeth grazing the skin lightly, and just before hitting the base Bucky pulled up and started back down, taunting me still. My arousal was rising, and I was aching to give in and ram myself down his throat over and over until I came.

Suddenly the smooth walls of his inner cheeks clenched, and I had to ball my hands into his hair to steady myself. He doubled his speed, going deeper and deeper each time. I found myself muttering profanities as my hips rocked back and forth against his mouth, his soft lips tightening their grip around me. Buck moaned seductively, his spit dripping down the shaft, and allowed me to take the reins and press in harder. With both hands I shoved myself in as far as I could go, letting out a guttural groan every time it hit the back of his throat. Sensing that I was about to come, he wrapped his metal hand around the base and quickened the pace even more.

“Oh, God, Bucky, yes. I’m so close,” I moaned.

Surprising me again, he dampened his slender middle finger in his mouth and slowly slid it into my hole, and the unexpected friction sent me over the edge. Waves of pleasure washed over me as I shot into his mouth. He pumped my orgasm a little more before letting go and swallowing my come. I crashed back onto the bed, overcome with ecstasy, and, letting out a satisfied sigh, he climbed up to rest his head on my leg.

“I think I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admitted after a long silence.

“Same here.”

“So why didn’t we?”

* * *

I already know the answer to my own question. Steve leans up to look down at me and pierces me with his warm blue eyes, searching for the right words to explain our stupidity. Searching for an answer other than what he already knows as well.

“We were scared,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“And you aren’t now?”

“Things are different now,” he replied, staring at me with what can only be described as endearment.

Lust was one thing, but I don’t think I was ready to be loved. To be taken, as I am, when I’m not even sure what that is.

“How?” I asked, almost trying to push him away. What seemed like a good idea a minute ago was now terrifying me. Heavy petting wasn’t the same as letting Steve in, I told myself, and talking to him made me feel vulnerable. He had this gaze when he wasn’t going to back down, and I saw it now. Certainty framed his previously nervous smile as he tucked a bit of my hair behind my ear and answered, “We’re not only free to do what we want, but we’re all we have left.”

“You have others.”

“Barely. And especially not someone I can share my experiences with. You and Peggy are the only ones I know from the good ol’ days and she’s-” Steve get caught on his words, so I finish the sentence for him.

“She’s fading,” Nodding, he lies back down and starts stroking my hair.

“You still love her,” I said, sensing an oddly familiar feeling of jealousy.

“I don’t know, Bucky. I do love her, but I don’t think it’s what I thought it was. I think I could have fully given myself to her, but I never had that chance. What I do have, though, is a second chance with you.”

I turned away and looked out the small window, unable to think of a response.

“I thought you weren’t into guys,” Steve sighs, “Even more so that you wouldn’t be into a tiny guy like I was. I had gotten stronger, but a war was hardly the time to get into that.”

To voice emotions buried for this long should’ve been painful, and yet he spoke in such an earnest tone that it made me feel guilty for having a hard time explaining myself. His confidence echoed mine before going to war, and made me a bit ill. Not because I hated it but because it was impossible to return to the past. Steve wanted to go back while I was trying to obliterate the memories altogether. Neither of us was going to get what we wanted, and so fighting about it only put our relationship on unstable footing. Getting close will compromise you, the Soldier in me said, You’re a fucking moron if you do.

“Don’t get your hopes high, Rogers,” I scoffed at him unexpectedly, “I’m not sure how much we’ll get into now.” Curling up, I shut my eyes and prepare for the battery of impending regrets. I felt consumed by my past once again. I felt so small in the blackness of my life. My stomach and lungs seized up, and trying to breath only made my chest lurch and my eyes water. A strong arm draped over mine, and his warm body wrapped protectively against my figure.

“We can be whatever you want, Bucky. Just promise me you won’t beat yourself up no matter what your decision,” he whispered, gently kissing my neck. My body stayed rigid, unwilling to cope with comfort., unsure how to cope with affection.

* * *

Bucky went to work, and I went for a run. My first reaction to this morning was schoolboy-like, shy and excited all at once, but my second reaction was a harrowing emptiness in my chest. Despite his interest in me, there was a removed look about him that could easily turn back into complete detachment. On one hand, I felt guilty for coming on so strong; on the other hand, I had desired this for so long that now I could hardly turn back after getting a taste of it. No matter how fast I ran, how many laps I took around Capitol Hill, I couldn’t get the sense of impending loss out of head. Who knew if either of us was even ready for a relationship.

It was very difficult, but I managed to run myself a little bit sore. I hadn’t experienced much like it since I was first drafted and, riding the bus home, I greeted the nostalgic effect. It was perfect just to serve my country back then. Nothing else really mattered as long as I got to help the greater good. Now it seemed like protection and the morality had become separate things, and Captain America had fallen in the rift between them. How wrong was it to want some sort of stability in my life? To actually want something for myself?

After taking a hot shower, I decided to try and arrange another visit with Peggy.

“Hello?” said a familiar female voice on the other line.

“Hello. This is Steve Rogers. Who is this?”

“Yeah, I know.” -oh yeah, caller ID- “This is Sharon. We used to be flatmates, remember?”

“Agent 13. Yes, I do remember you. What’re ya doing on Mrs. Margaret’s line?”

“Peggy’s my aunt. Didn’t you know that?”

Suddenly, the way she looked at me made sense. I was straight outta one of Peggy’s war stories. It must’ve been surreal.

“N-no,” I stammered, “She, uh, didn’t get the chance to tell me.”

“Ah. Well, now you know…” she said with a flat tone. “Let me just get her on the phone for you.”

Sharon seemed irked for the rest of the conversation, but I didn’t push it. Fortunately for me, Peggy was free that day and so hours later we met up at the nursing house. The muted colors and flowerpots reminded me so much of the 30s. As Sharon walked me through to Peggy’s room I thought of how much better a grasp I had on myself then. Was it just me or did everyone back then? Peggy certainly did then and did now, and that’s one of the things I loved about her. She was the light at the end of the tunnel and right now I needed light more than ever.

Sitting up in her bed, her long ringlets framed her aged face beautifully as she finished up a sentence of “A Room of One’s Own”. She gracefully took off her glasses and looked at me brazenly. After all this time that look still stopped my heart. She was one of the fiercest women I knew, and I felt like a twig again in her presence.

“Well, well. Look who it is,” she said, holding back a cough at the end. “Captain Steve Rogers himself. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

I laughed to myself as Sharon shut the door behind the three of us. “Still reading Virginia Woolf, I see.” I commented on her favorite book.

“I-I don't believe I've read this before. Anyway, sit. Sit,” she motioned weakly to the chair besides her bed.

“Oh, that’s alright. Sharon can have it.”

Sharon crossed her arms and smirked slightly, answering, “Nah. I’ll be leaving soon anyway. Thanks, though.”

I shrugged and took the chair, staring out the window awkwardly. I always felt uncertain of Peggy’s condition. One second she seemed tougher than nails, and the next, she'd think she was back in the 40s.

“Look at me, Steve. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own. You don’t need the added stress.”

“Steven Rogers!” she suddenly spoke up, “I have not lived through wars and terrorist attacks and extraterrestrial espionage just to be babied by you.”

Sitting upright in my seat, shocked at the motherly tone of voice, I apologized immediately. Sharon laughed, probably used to this side of her aunt, and so we laughed along too.

“It’s Bucky…” I admitted, quickly draining the room of sound and color.

“Ah, yes,” Peggy said, crossing her hands over her lap and pursing her lips concernedly. “He's back, isn't he.”

“You knew?”

“I had my suspicions.”

“Well, he’s not HYDRA’s puppet anymore. He’s trying to live a normal life, but-”

“That’s not easy after the one he’s lead,” she finished my sentence, pulling my eyes back towards her.

“It’s more than that, though. I may be making it worse. I try so hard, but… but I may be trying too hard, y’know?”

“You love him, don’t you?”

I heart my heart leap again, this time out of embarrassment. Sharon jumped a bit too, but I couldn’t figure out why exactly.

“You know, he said the same thing about you this morning. I don’t know what it is about me that makes it a dead give-away.”

“I think I should go now,” Sharon huffed, “Give you two some time alone. Besides, I don’t want to be late for work. Bye.” she said, quickly shutting the door behind her.

“What was that I about?” I asked.

“Never you mind her. She’s a bit of a heartsick girl, that girl. I’ll discuss it with her later.”

I gently shrugged. It was none of my business.

“Anyway, back to what you were saying, Steve.”

“Yeah, um… Things went a little further than I think either of us was expected, and I don’t know where to take our relationship from there. I’m not sure if I can take it anywhere.”

“Always thought you fancied men until you showed interest in me. Not that I mind.”

“I don’t know what I ‘fancy.’ All I know is that you two are the only ones I’ve ever cared for like this, and hell if I know if he feels the same way.”

“Listen. The way Sargent Barnes used to look out for you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. You two were closer than brothers way back then. You really were, and I’ll tell you what. Life’s too short, even for you, to be letting love go without a fight. You tell him how you feel, Rogers, or so help me I will hunt your house down and do it myself,” she answered with a wag of her finger and a glint in her eye. Right away I felt the guilt wash out of my body and I noticed with a heavy sigh that I hadn’t been breathing much since I had entered the room.

“Thank you so much, Pegs,” I said, standing up and walking over to her bedside to plant a kiss on her cheek, “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

“Oh hoh hoh, ‘Pegs.’ I haven’t heard that in an eternity. Well, you’re welcome, dear. Your happiness means a lot to me,” she laughed with another soft cough. I squeezed her hand, thanking her again.

“I couldn’t go on without my girl, you know that?”

“Well, you’re going to have to one day, Soldier.” she replied, squeezing back.

“Don’t say that. You’re gonna outlive all of us, I swear.”

She laughed again, attempting to look stronger than she was. We chatted for a few minutes before her memory started to fade again. Just as fast as I had cheered up, I felt a pain in my chest return. I could only handle short bursts seeing her in that condition. She knew her time was limited, but she stayed tough all the same. It was both endearing and agonizing at once. Peggy was a lot braver than me at times. I took another walk around town and tried to push the worst out of my mind.

* * *

The sun was setting when Steve got back. One of the few things I actually enjoyed now was watching the pinks and oranges glow and simmer out. I stayed perched up at my usual spot at the window when walked in, slowly and purposefully either because he had something to say or not to startle me. Probably both. I didn’t look his way, completely aware that we’d have to address this morning at some point. Why the fuck did life always have to be so damn complicated? Why couldn’t things just rise and set with certainty like the sun? He paused at the couch, unsure whether to approach me or not, and we were still until it was just about twilight.

“I remember you painted the sky like this once,” I finally spoke. He stepped behind me to catch a glimpse of it.

“Yeah. It looked just like that to be exact,” I heard a smile creep up in his tone as he pointed between the apartment buildings, “With just a touch of purple at the horizon.”

I felt his warmth on my back like earlier, but again my shoulders refused to relax despite the fact I wanted them to. Steve’s breath and pulse were unusually calm, so I was forced to look up at him for a better read.

Engrossed in the skyline, he didn’t notice me watching. He had an easy smile pulling on his lips, and that familiarity was there again. He was so comfortable around me, but, against my best efforts, I couldn’t feel the same way. I was warming to him faster than anyone else, though. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but something small inside me wanted to reconnect more than anything else. The old James was desperately trying to fight his way past the Winter Soldier.

While I was relearning Steve’s face -starting from his chiseled chin up through his pink lips, rounded cheekbones, lean nose, and intense eyes- he looked down at me. His eyebrows raised and his mouth slacked open; but no words came out.

“I got a new vinyl,” I blurted out, jumping up, pulling Janis Joplin’s ‘Pearl’ out of the black plastic bag next to the player, and putting it on.

“I’ve heard that voice recently,” he said following me with his gaze, “Janis Joplin, right? Sixties was a great time for music.” I avoided his eyes as I pulled out leftovers from the cafe and heated them up for him, just nodding here and there.

The singer’s gravelly wail filled the lonely rooms of the tiny flat, and I played the record three times before being bested by fatigue. Tossing back my eighth shot of whiskey, I belched and groaned, “Guess it’s time to hit the stacks.” Steve glanced up from his sketchbook and half-frowned.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best. Coulson messaged me about a meeting tomorrow.” he said with a huff, finishing off his beer.

“Ok, well,” I struggled to finish the conversation as I meandered to the bedroom, “Lock the door on your way out.”

“Uh-huh…” Oh Lord, here we go.

“Buck, can we talk?” I scanned the living room for an excuse to escape, but coming up empty-handed, it looked smaller than ever to me.

“Um, alright,” I tried to say calmly. The booze in my system was tilting the walls, though, and my throat was starting to tighten. I wasn’t sure if it was love that terrified me more or rejection, but I sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

“About this morning,” he said under his breath, standing up and watching my back, “We left it pretty open-ended.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I snapped, dizzy with panic and apparently hunger, and gripped the bedroom door for balance.

“Nothing,” he whispered, stepping closer for fear of me falling over, “But after thinking about it all day, I’ve come to the conclusion that…”

I could swear my heart was in my throat, and the pounding sound flooded my ears. I was close to upchucking, but then I heard the rest of the sentence.

“I really care about you, and I’d like to take our relationship further. If- if that’s okay with you.”

“What?” I asked, craning my head around because I could swear I had misheard him. Now the floor was spinning under me, and Steve held onto my arms just in case.

“I want to go further, Bucky. I’d understand if you don’t, though. You seemed pretty cold to the idea earlier.”

One part of me said It’s wrong to get close, another part said It’s wrong to love a man, but a third part was keenly aware of how he smelled. An earthy musk with hints of cinnamon and pear from his dessert.

I found myself slanting back against his stout chest, his body almost fitting the curve my back perfectly. “I don’t know. I… don’t want to hurt you,” the words slipped from my mouth.

“I’m a grown man, Buck. I can choose the risks I take. You’re worth it.”

“I’m not worth anything. I’m beyond repair. It’d be too easy for you to hurt me.”

It went silent all for the sound of the vinyl spinning and ticking behind us. Then Steve abruptly whirled me around to face him and grabbed my face with both hands.

“I would never hurt you, you hear me? Never. You’re too important to me. Not as an asset or a weapon, but as a person, as a friend, Bucky. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you happy because that’s all that matters to me.”

The words rattle around in my head before the gravity of them hit me. My head felt heavy, and my heart was dancing against my ribs. I specifically remembered saying something similar to that after we had graduated high school:  _ I’d never leave you, Steve, if I could help it. You’re my best friend, and I’d like to stay here forever and keep you happy. ‘Cause that’s really all that matters in the long run for me. _

So I finished the conversation like I did before. I set my right hand along the side of his face and pulled him in to kiss him on the edge of his forehead. Only this time I followed it with a slow kiss on the mouth. Steve accepted the invitation, sucking my top lip surprisingly roughly, and wrapped his strong hands around my waist to reel me in closer. He willingly opened his mouth as I let my fingers graze through his freshly cut hair and pulled him in even tighter for a firmer kiss.

“I need you,” I found myself whispering against Steve’s lips, nearly breathless already.

Pushing me up against the doorframe, he twisted his tongue with mine; the taste of Killian’s and pie was completely arousing. I half-fixed him between my legs, swiftly unbuttoning his plaid shirt and tossing it, then the undershirt, to the floor. As I dragged my mouth along Steve’s jawline, he placed his fingers just inside the ridge of my jeans and started to rock me back and forth into him. He was so hard already, but Rogers kept in absolute control, teasing at my zipper and catching my tongue with his. Out of nowhere he pinned both of my arms up with one hand and unbuckled my belt with the other. I couldn’t believe how dominating he could be or how turned on I could be by it.

Clearly he memorized my weak spot because I felt him lick up the side of my ear before biting down on the same spot as he had last time. I gasped, my pants hitting the ground with a light clunk, and Steve suddenly released my wrists to hoist me into the air.

“Damn it, Rogers!” I giggled drunkenly as he carried me into the bedroom, “I hope you don’t plan on making me the dame in this relationship.”

“It wouldn’t suit you.” he replied, laughing as we both dropped onto the bed with a heavy creak.

“Right,” I said after a pause, pushing him off of me and, jumping on top, “That’s your job.”

Straddling his hips, I held Steve down and skimmed my mouth over each nipple. I let my tongue trace around one before pinching it gently between my lips and then my teeth, eliciting an erotic sigh. When I licked up to the base of his throat, he tried to grab onto my waist, but I forced him down again, teasing, “Now do I have to tie you up, or are you going to behave?”

“Hhh,” Steve moaned lightly as I began to rub my groin against his leisurely, “I’ll behave.”

“Good.” I said, undoing his pants and sliding them off with one strong tug.

I planted wet kisses up from his ankle all the way to the top of his thigh, loving how Steve panted weakly the whole time. I could see his tight hole from this angle, and I had to keep myself from taking him right then. Instead I bit at the bottom of his white boxers teasingly and massaged at the soft skin of his inner thighs, trying to ignore my growing throb below. Pulling my own tee off, I climbed back on top of Steve and licked his lips. I bit at his neck down to his v and back up repeatedly, leaving his skin wet and sore. Eventually it became too much for him, though, and I found myself under him, flipped so my ass was facing up.

“Is this alright, Buck?” Steve double-checked with me.

“Fuck yeah,” I exhaled, grateful I had washed up earlier.

Before I could even consider protesting Steve yanked my boxers down to my ankles and spread my legs far apart. With my bionic arm pinned behind my back, he slowly slid his tongue down my crack and around my asshole. My whole member ached painfully as I watched over my shoulder; he smiled at me -devilishly- before kissing the entrance and carefully pressing his tongue inside. I couldn’t help groaning and trying to push Steve in further, but he gripped my waist tightly and pulled away from me until I stopped moving. Entering again, he went deeper this time, swirling his tongue and occasionally sucking at the rim. I grunted into my pillow, and I felt him chuckle quietly at me; the vibrations only making it feel even better. I had never seen this side of Rogers before.

* * *

While I didn’t like how drunken Bucky was, being able to be this forceful with him turned me on so badly. He writhed under me as I flicked my tongue back and forth against his hole.

“S-stop. I’m too close.” he groaned breathlessly. I knew I was going to pay for this later, but I keep going; two fingers in Bucky’s mouth and the other hand wrapped around his erection, which was already dripping profusely. At first he willingly slid my fingers in and out of his mouth, but then he bit down on one and knocked me back onto the bed with ease.

Bucky pinned me down with his forearm, and, after grabbing his lubricant off the nightstand and coating two metal fingers with it, began to slam them deep into my entrance. The cool, wet metal tingled against my hot skin, and, losing all control of my body, I began to thrust against his hand.

“Apologize,” he growled into my ear.

“I- Oh! I’m s-sorry. I admit I- enhhh- got carried away. Please go easy on me.”

“Nope.” Bucky answered plainly, an evil glint in his eye.

While keeping at the same pace, he took my dick into his mouth whole. I held onto his hair for dear life as he mercilessly pumped, the tip going down his slick throat. Usually I would able to last a while, but the speed Bucky was going was hitting too many nerves too quickly. “I’m going to come,” I warned, and just like that he doubled his pace. My ass tightened and I jerked violently, grunting as I came into his mouth.

His face and chest were damp with sweat, spit, and semen, but I’ll pulled him up and kissed him anyway, delighting in the moist brush of tongue and stubble and body heat. I breathed in Bucky’s musky scent, our limbs becoming entangled, and took in as much of this moment as possible.

“Mmmm,” he moaned into my mouth as I stroked the hairs above his crotch. “I want to be inside you.”

Despite going so far with him already, I blushed at the frankness of his comment. Bucky sat up and looked at me pensively, rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he sighed.

“I really do, Buck. It’s just that nothing could’ve ever prepared me to hear that,” I answered honestly.

“I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”

“I’ve wan-” but he silenced me with a firm kiss, hooking one arm around my neck and spreading my legs apart with the other. Before going any further, I pulled back again, focusing on his eyes so he knew how much this meant.

Bucky kissed my forehead once more, and then, after lubing up, pushed in. I gasped at the initial stretch, still sensitive from the last orgasm and shocked at the actual size of him. After getting all the way in, he steadied himself with one hand on my waist and the on the mattress, and I nodded for him to continue. The first few thrusts were painful, but soon enough I felt pleasure throughout my core; my penis began to harden up again. Burying his head in the crook of my neck, Bucky bit onto my collarbone to keep himself in check.

“So tight,” he groaned through his teeth, rocking into me slowly and deliberately.

I felt myself getting lightheaded as the pleasure began to rise, unable to handle the friction of him rubbing against my inner walls. Taking deep breathes, I tried not clench down and speed up Bucky’s orgasm, but suddenly he hit an erotic spot that caused me to lose all control. My head flung back as I clung to his shoulders, desperately moaning for him to go harder. His hips smacked against mine, making wet sounds, and Bucky pushed further and further, filling me entirely.

“Oh God.” he grunted, picking up speed, “Fuck, you feel so good!” Soon I had my legs around his waist, pulling him in for more, and I didn’t want it to end.

His hair was drenched in sweat, but it felt so good to tangle my fingers in it. I needed as much I Bucky as I could get. Our tongues and limbs wound around each other, making his hot, slick skin rub up against mine as he pounded into me again and again and again. “Steve, I’m gonna come,” he warned breathlessly. I placed his metal hand around my swollen member and moved it in rhythm with his hips.

Bucky stared at me open-mouthed as we both began to reach climax, and squeezed his hand tighter around the head. He gritted his teeth as he thrust into me a couple more final times and I slip a low groan, come shooting all over his hand and my chest.

“Bucky,” I panted before he grabbed my mouth with his. He pulled out, and fell asleep almost immediately after resting his head against my shoulder. “Bucky, I love you,” I finished my sentence under his gentle snoring. That night he slept perfectly still in my arms, and I prayed that we could stay like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is finally fixed, so I'm working on a new chapter!


	4. The Driver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has Steve over for an important mission when Bucky alerts him to a whole new issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been on hiatus for two years guys ;_; Life got in the way, but I want you to know I'm still working on this story no matter how slowly!
> 
> Anyway, this is when the story really starts to diverge from canon, but it still has important bits and pieces from the comics. I haven't had any help editing this one, so I'm still working out the kinks.

A soft light streamed over the bed, gently rousing me awake. I drew in an easy breath, and a second one followed, warmth radiating through me as a strong chest pressed more snugly against my bare back. Long fingers curled securely through mine, and the light seemed to dance when a bird at the windowsill fluttered its wings. The previously dull brown walls looked bronze, and I oddly felt at ease with my bed for once.

_What happened last night? _I ask myself even though the answer was clear:  
_I finally had sex with Steve Rogers... and I really fucking enjoyed it. _____

__I quietly shifted to face the larger body, and the sight left me breathless: Golden wheat hair, ruffled at the tips, long eyelashes, and matching stubble framing his jawline. He was practically smiling in his sleep, round lips nestled perfectly between chiseled cheeks. Here lied Hercules, untainted by the world, and my heart skipped a beat just watching him. I couldn’t help letting my fingertips skim over Steve’s cheek and through his smooth hair. When his eyelids fluttered, though, I rested my hand to his side and pretended to be asleep. His leg wrapped around my side, and I felt lips softly press to mine. I didn’t quite know what to say to Steve yet._ _

__“Hey, you,” he whispered against my scruff before trailing his mouth down my face, neck, and collarbone._ _

__I felt my breath catch and so I quickly had to give up the charade. Upon opening my eyes, my heart immediately jumped into my throat. While I had been marveling his innocent beauty for ages, that was the first time I really got the chance to embrace it. Our long-buried passions for each other had been dug up and fully laid out in this bed only the night before, and it was stunning and precious and overwhelming all at once. Swept up in his deep, sincere eyes, I found it impossible to stop gawking open-mouthed._ _

__“Mornin’,” Steve chuckled, eyes crinkling as he readjusted his head on the pillow._ _

__“Hi,” I croaked, licking my lips awkwardly._ _

___Get it together, Barnes! _I yelled internally._ _ __

__How I could fuck the shit out of someone one day and crush on them the next was beyond me. It wasn’t like the old Barnes at all. This man turned my insides to mush and rendered all my normally keen instincts useless._ _

__“Soo...” He bit his lip to hold back the question until he felt it was safe, “Last night.”_ _

__“I had a few too many drinks,” I admitted, causing Steve’s forehead to crease anxiously, “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”_ _

__Turning onto his back, he let out a big, happy sigh of relief. “Oh wow, Buck... Does this mean we’re-”_ _

__“Tell anyone, and you’re dead, Rogers.”_ _

__“No, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured me, grinning wide as a Cheshire, “Not even-”_ _

__“Anyone.”_ _

__“Gotcha. Won’t tell a soul,” he said, tapping his index finger to his mouth._ _

__“Would you wipe that stupid grin off your face?”_ _

__“When you wipe off yours.”_ _

I _had _actually been smiling._ _

__“Shut up,” I retorted, failing at hiding my embarrassment._ _

__He reached out and slowly pulled my hand down to his mouth to kiss it reassuringly. Almost dizzy from the battery of recently untouched emotions, I let a finger glide against his lips before politely pulling back and getting out of bed. Elated as I was, I hadn’t felt so unsure since I defied Pierce last year: Sitting in that cold chair of vinyl and metal, sickly green walls mocking my entrapment, and that fowl man sitting backwards in his seat like he was in casual conversation. Despite my high pain tolerance, my cheek still stung._ _

__“Let’s take things slow,” I said, shaking off the memory and walking over to rummage through the old chestnut dresser for clean underwear._ _

__“Your call.”_ _

__I had to remind myself Rogers wouldn’t wipe my mind for sticking my ground._ _

__*** * * ******__

__The hairs on my neck stood up, my face got flushed, and my heart began to do the rumba against my chest just at the thought of night before. How was I supposed to keep all my feelings under wrap? Every moment I waited for Agent Coulson to arrive, another lewd clip would plaster itself to the front of my mind. His hands on my waist, his mouth on my neck, _himself inside me. _Maybe telling someone really was a terrible idea. I could imagine Romanoff poking fun at me at every chance she’d get. Bucky was the only one that could make me blush, and she did _not _need to know that._ _ ____

__I tried to brush away any telltale signs as the black SUV rolled up to the curb of the apartment building._ _

__“‘Sup,” Natasha greeted me, opening the back door and pulling her over-sized sunglasses down to wink._ _

__“Feeling frisky as usual I see.”_ _

__“We were just talking about your new friend,” Coulson chimed in from the front seat, “Or rather, an old one.”_ _

___Ok, stay cool. Stay cool, Rogers. _“What about?” I ask, trying to hide my awkward fidgeting._ _ __

__“How Phil would fangirl over him.” Nat answered smirking._ _

__I half-sighed before gulping it back to keep from attracting attention to myself._ _

__Coulson fired back, “He’s one of the Howling Commandos! It’d be such an honor to meet him...”_ _

__I realized a little late that it was more of a request than a statement. “Oh. Yeah, I guess. If, you know, he’s up to it. He’s not very... social anymore.”_ _

__“No, I can’t imagine he would be.”_ _

__The car suddenly had a somber air to it, and no one spoke for the rest of the ride._ _

__“We’re going on a private jet to New York,” Coulson said after parking at an old S.H.I.E.L.D. parking structure, “We should be back in a few hours.”_ _

__I was starting to wonder if _anyone _knew the plan. Fury was always such a mysterious character; nevertheless his intentions were good, so I’d go on this trip and hopefully be back for dinner. I texted Bucky before hopping into a sleek black metal jet marked “Stark” in bold, white letters._ _ __

__Stark Tower had been restored to its former glory since Loki’s attack two years ago, but I hadn’t visited much since. Its looming metal and concrete beams, conjoining up to a giant platformed roof, were as showy as its creator, and while we were on good terms now I wasn’t eager to reunite with him. _Howard would be up to here with him. Then again, they’re not so different. _Upon entering the building, We were greeted by -a more muscled- Ms. Potts who took us up to the conference floor right below Tony’s._ _ __

__“I bet you’re wondering why I brought you all here today,” the cocky little man boomed, exiting the wooden door adjacent to us._ _

__There was a strange grin on his face, but the joke was lost on me. Drowned in the deluge of modern entertainment, there were still many quotes that I didn’t know. As usual, he had a drink in one hand and the other hand in his pocket._ _

__“Well, it _would _be helpful,” Nat answered sarcastically, getting to the point first._ _ __

__“Don’t be a spoilsport, Romanoff. That’s Iced Cap’s job over here.”_ _

__“Cut to the chase, Stark,” I said._ _

__“ _See? _” he taunted with a nod of his head towards me._ _ __

__Under kinder circumstances than last we met, the mood was surprisingly light. _Or maybe it’s just your post-sex high. _I prayed he wouldn’t notice my cheeks reddening, or, worse, mistakenly assume he had caused it. Walking past the dark green marble table and over-sized white leather chairs, he went to the electronic projector on the furthest wall from us and turned it on with the remote set in front of it. It comes on with a whirl, showing a picture of a man with thick facial features, crew-cut, and buggy eyes._ _ __

__“This,” Tony said gesturing to the detailed photograph, “is Norman Osborn.”_ _

__The screen transitions to videos of Norman at Congress and introducing new superheroes._ _

__“With the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, he’s convinced the government to let him start his own group called H.A.M.M.E.R. Pretentious, I know,” he -ironically- scoffs Osborn._ _

__“Well, isn’t that what we need? A new national protection agency, Hydra-free?” I asked._ _

__“Yes, but you assume this is one,” he answered, rocking back on his heels, “See, you’re asking the wrong questions. ‘ _Oh, Tony, please tell us what the right question is! _’ Alright, I’ll tell you.”_ _ __

__I had to bite my cheek to hold back my returning dislike of the man._ _

__“The correct question is ‘Is this person we want running a new national protection agency?’ Annnd the answer is ‘No.’ Norman Osborn is an corrupt and mentally unstable man, who will end up taking his so-called heroes and the rest of us down with him. It’s only a matter of time before he comes after all of our secret intelligence.”_ _

__“What are you proposing we do, Stark?” Coulson interrupted._ _

__“Yes, good questions! Finally,” He replied with a clap, getting more and more animated by the minute._ _

__He pulled up files on the projector, and, tapping his fingers to the screen, pulled the documents off into a holographic form. He spreads them in the air in front of us to read._ _

__“The Fifty State Initiative as I like to call it.”_ _

__We skim it quickly, knowing he’d get impatient and explain it to us anyway. The Initiative suggested young super humans be trained at Stark-funded camps around the country and be placed into miniature Avenger groups._ _

__“Not only would we be protecting the country in an organized way, but we’d also be recruiting people before H.A.M.M.E.R gets the chance.”_ _

__Nat and Phil looked at me silently, knowing I’d be the first to make a ruling._ _

__“Don’t tell me you’re forcing children into camps.” I sighed._ _

__“Details, details, Captain,” He evaded the question, sitting on the corner and sipping from his glass, “I’m still working out the fine print.”_ _

__“What do you want us to do?”_ _

__“I want you on Capitol Hill with me. They’re not overly fond of my or Romanoff’s faces. That brings me to step two: Natasha, I need you to infiltrate H.A.M.M.E.R. headquarters and get their intel first. We need to rat Osborn out for the maniac he is.”_ _

__“Well, you’re more pro-active than usual,” Coulson said what we were all thinking._ _

__Stark and Potts gave each other a strange look before he quipped, “Trust me, I only have my best interest at heart. This guy plans to tear down my empire for Christ’s sake!”_ _

__Everyone stays silent._ _

__“Are you in or are you out?”_ _

__“Sure,” Coulson was the first to agree._ _

__“I trust Phil. I’m in.” Natasha added._ _

__I open my mouth, weighed heavily by a dreadful doubt, when I get a loud text. Desperate for time to think, I request to check my phone, and I see that it’s Buck._ _

___**Arm is malfunctioning. Can Stark help? ** __****_ __

__My mind went straight to Robyn’s bruised neck, and I prayed that no one got hurt this time. Then it occurred to me that everyone was staring, so I put the phone away and propose a deal._ _

__“My friend, James Barnes, has a bionic arm -as I’m sure you’ve heard- and it isn’t working right. I’ll help you, if you promise to fix it.”_ _

__“Your friend. The Winter Soldier?” he answered with another question, as if Bucky was a myth._ _

__“Uh, yeah. So can you help or what?”_ _

__Suddenly he got this glint in his eye, and starting flailing his hands around like an excited child._ _

__“It’d be my honor -no- my absolute _pleasure _to work on his arm. Honestly, it’s been my dream to get up close and personal with that prosthetic. Zola’s work was all state-of-the-art, some of it even superior to mine. Imagine what I could create with blueprints of that thing? It would launch my suits 5, -no- 10 years into the future!”_ _ __

__“Okay, great. When can we bring him in?”_ _

__“Now. Cancel all of your plans. JARVIS?”_ _

__The electronic voice out came from the walls as if it was here with us the whole time (I could never get used to that), asking its usual “Yes, Mr. Stark?”_ _

__“Locate Barnes and have a jet ready to pick him up. Coulson, you go too to keep things running smoothly.”_ _

__“Right away, sir,” JARVIS responded, and Phil left with a look on his face that was somehow half-annoyed and half-excited._ _

__“Pepper Dear, can you please reserve the two super soldiers a love nest?”_ _

__Those words left me nervously trying to distract myself from any rogue, romantic thoughts I might have. She agreed and, out of nowhere, the room was empty save for me and Howard’s devious genius of a son._ _

__For a change, I was the first to fill the awkward gap in conversation._ _

__“Thanks for this,” I said, finishing my reply message and scuffing my shoe tip against the polished floor._ _

__“Don’t get all mushy on me now, Soldier-boy. Like I said, it’d be my pleasure.”_ _

__Tony pours me a whiskey, gestures for me to sit, and for a while we talk about my, unbeknownst to all, new boyfriend._ _

__*** * * ******__

__I was ending my shift when it happened. A whiteness filled my mind and my heart quaked violently. My skin broke into a dewy sweat despite my bones turning to ice. Every breath I took, my lungs seemed to collapse more inwardly and the floor started to tilt. My boss walked into the back room just as I hit the ground. When I blinked, he had returned with a wet washcloth._ _

__“Did I pass out?” I asked, rubbing my head and sitting up against the bright yellow wall._ _

__“Yeah, but luckily the couch broke your fall. Scared the crap outta me. Do you need me to call 911?” Jeff asked as he swiped back his shaggy silver hair and handed the dish rag out in front of me._ _

__“No. Thank you, though, Mr. Wixom,” I answered and attempted to offer a gracious smile._ _

__When I tried to pick up the towel, my bandaged arm wouldn’t respond. Frowning, I went for it again. Nothing. On the third attempt, the metal made a strained clicking sound at the joints, and a jolt of pain surged through my shoulder and up my spinal cord._ _

__“Son of a- !” I shouted, feeling a slight trail of blood seep through my shirt where the arm was attached._ _

__“Are you okay?!”_ _

__“I have a condition. I’ll take care of it at home,” I grunted as I slowly got up before he could see it through my purple hoodie._ _

__“Are you sure, James? You don’t look too good.” the old hippie questioned me again._ _

__“Yes, I’m sure. This has happened before,” I lied, composing myself as I opened the door with my left hand._ _

__“Alright,” he resigned, “Just take tomorrow off and... promise me you’ll get better? We hired you here without asking questions because you seemed like you were sincerely trying to get past your issues. Please tell me if things get too rough. I’ll gladly give you some time off if it means your health will improve.”_ _

__Stunned at Jeff’s kindness, I simply nodded and replied, “I will.”_ _

__I positioned my bad side away from the everyone in the cafe and quickly made my way out the back door. As I trudged home I cursed my rotten luck, wondering who could possibly repair my sick contraption of a prosthetic. Leaving my arm exposed in my first days of being free taught me that despite this century’s advanced technology, they weren’t yet accustomed to bionic limbs. It was then that I remembered who Steve was with today._ _

__A shot of cold guilt hit my chest at the thought of Stark._ _

__Behind my eyes arose flames and flying hunks of car debris. What was left of the two passengers was charred almost beyond recognition, and I could still smell the acrid scent of Howard’s burnt flesh._ _

___The Starks are your enemy, _the Soldier hissed, _Don’t tell me you’re going to enlist help from an enemy. ___ ____

__I didn’t have any other choice, though, so I swallowed my pride and fear and eventually texted Steve for help after I got home._ _

__After stripping my hoodie, undershirt, and bandages, I inspected the damage on my right shoulder. It had stopped bleeding, but multiple veins leading to the metal were bulging slightly. My arm couldn’t stay dead forever, or it’d start taking out other body parts. While cleaning the dried blood, I got the response message._ _

___**Pack an overnight bag. Tony has his jet heading your way. ** __****_ __

__If this wasn’t so dire, I’d try to fix the damn thing myself. Trying to kill someone is one thing, but _killing someone’s parents _? That was unforgivable, especially since it was also betrayal. Howard’s face contorted under the fire in my mind. A face that was practically copied and pasted onto his son. Even if Stark never found out, I was going to have to face him with that gruesome knowledge. As I re-positioned my bandages to cover the wound, I tried my hardest not to attempt balling my fist in frustration._ _ __

__I switched to a tank and leather jacket and packed bags for both Steve and me, the chrome limb hanging uselessly to my side. As I walked to the designated rendezvous spot, I considered getting the horrid thing replaced with a normal prosthetic. Maybe Steve’s friend could even make it look flesh and blood. _Maybe you can pretend to be a real boy! _the other me mocked. I started wishing I had died in the fall again. Anything to have prevented becoming this monster. The arm was not only dangerous but a symbol of my sickening second life._ _ __

__Out of Stark’s gaudy private jet exited an average sized man with short, thinning hair, a stern jawline, and dark blue eyes that looked like they had seen war. Contrasting the look, though, he was as giddy as a child to see me._ _

__“Agent Philip Coulson,” he introduced himself while shaking my dead hand fervently, “It really is an incredible honor to meet _thee _Bucky Barnes.”_ _ __

__“Hey,” was all I could manage, floored by the awe I seemed to inspire in him._ _

__“Let’s get you to Stark Tower,” he said, putting his hand on my back and then quickly removing it._ _

__I ignored the increasing pain on my left side and tried focusing on the positive. _Steve. _The brightest light in my horrid life._ _ __

__*** * * ******__

__

__My heart didn’t know whether to flutter or drop when I saw Bucky enter the suite. He smiled but he looked more far drained than usual. Grabbing the duffle bag from him, I noticed he was ready to topple over._ _

__“Tell me what happened?” I asked Buck, helping him to the love-seat across from the window._ _

__I opened it for fresh air and then ran to fill a cup of water for him. He gulped it down and breathed heavily afterwards, only speaking after regaining a little composure._ _

__

__“Had just clocked out… Out of nowhere it felt like I was having a heart attack. Like I was dying. Guess I passed out… My boss found me and then… arm malfunction. Started bleeding at my shoulder.”_ _

__A panic attack, plain and simple. Could that really trigger something in his arm, though?_ _

__“What’d your boss say?” I asked calmly as possible._ _

__“Didn’t understand what was happening. Gave me time off. I refused an ambulance.”_ _

__“Sounds like a real stand-up guy. Hope you didn’t scare him too badly.”_ _

__Bucky responded with a shrug, making me uncertain if he didn’t know, didn’t care, or was just too beat to comment._ _

__

__“I assume it’s getting worse?”_ _

__Taking in another huge breath, he nods at me. It becomes obvious that this could kill him if left unattended. I have to make sure he’s in his right mind when we go into Tony’s lab first, though._ _

__“Bucky,” I sit down next to him, “You had a panic attack. It can be a symptom of shell shock. A lot of our fellow soldiers had them, remember?”  
“Oh,” he says, biting his lips in concentration. As if he were trying to keep the thought between them._ _

__“Anyway, doesn’t matter. My point is it made your arm do something. Or try to do something.”_ _

__“I figured. It detected a fight or flight mode. Normally I would fight, but it hasn’t been re-calibrated in so long it couldn’t handle the transition. I think it started to pinch some of the nerves and veins.”_ _

__I winced at the description. I could probably take it just the same as Bucky was taking it now, but the thought of him suffering always twisted my gut. Especially when it was at the hands of fucking Hydra._ _

__

__“Well, I’m sure Tony can fix you up in no time. The problem is-”_ _

__“The lab,” he finished my sentence, “It’d trigger another attack, wouldn’t it?”_ _

__“The odds are high, yeah. Which would make your arm react again.”_ _

__He just frowned at that with his sad, tired eyes and then stared out the window._ _

___And just when things were starting to go right. ___ __

__“You be in a brightly lit room, and you won’t be strapped to anything. I’ll be there with you the whole time,” I offered, rubbing his thigh and trying to get him to look at me._ _

__It was the hardest to deal with when Buck got despondent. It not only made me feel helpless, but it was a jarring reminder of just how much of himself he lost most likely for good. Kissing the side of his forehead, I finally got him to face me._ _

__“I don’t know if I can do this,” he croaked._ _

__“We’ll make it through this together. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”_ _

__“Okay,” he resigned._ _

__

__“JARVIS?” I called for Tony’s electronic assistant._ _

__“Yes, Mister Rogers?” it immediately responded per usual._ _

__Much to my surprise I felt Bucky almost chuckle._ _

__“JARVIS, what’s a good way to prevent a panic attack?”_ _

__“Breathing into a paper bag can assist in regulating the body, sir.”_ _

__“Please have one ready in Tony’s _office _, JARVIS.”_ _ __

__“Right away, Sir. May I also suggest that Mr. Barnes have a distraction while Stark operates on him? Music or film for example.”_ _

__“Hmm, a distraction… No worries, JARVIS. I think I got that covered.”_ _

__“If you need anything, let me know.”_ _

__“Will do.”_ _

__

__When the room went silent I turned back to Bucky and smirked._ _

__“What?” he questioned me._ _

__“I’ve got something for you think about instead of the examination.”_ _

__“Spill, _Mister Rogers, _” and it was then that I realized that he had become aware of the “old” children’s show._ _ __

__

__He was in a better mood than I imagined he would be, but just in case, I whispered what I was going to do to him when he was recovered as a reward. That seemed to put him an even better mood. At least, for now..._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to msg me about any typos or questionable content!


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